Undone … and Done
Karl Barth famously instructed the preacher to hold the Bible in one hand and the daily newspaper in the other. Over the years both The New Yorker and Commonweal have supplemented and surpassed the newspaper in providing provocative material to help actualize the sacred text.
In pondering the readings for this Sunday’s liturgy I found myself harking back to one of the pieces in the current issue of Commonweal. I was particularly struck by this line from Chandra Bozelko’s “The God of Ambition:”
It is when we want our wills to be done that we become undone, staring skyward from our own personal foxholes.
But then, unbidden, lines from John Donne’s “A Hymne to God our Father” came as well:
Wilt Thou forgive that sinne where I begunne,
Which is my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive those sinnes through which I runne,
And doe them still: though still I doe deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For, I have more.
I have a sinne of feare, that when I have spunne
My last thred, I shall perish on the shore;
Sweare by thy self, that at my death thy Sunne
Shall shine as it shines now, and heretofore;
And, having done that, Thou hast done,
I have no more.
What a powerful story by prison inmate Chandra Bozelko! She gets the Sermon on the Mount now. The mistake she made in in interpreting the words of Jesus: “Be perfect as your father in heaven is perfect” is too often made by religious people who adhere assiduously to every rule while ignoring their neighbor. The reason is they leave out the rest of the statement which declares: “Who lets his shine on the just and unjust.” Chandra also gets it that the meek inherit the earth because they don’t define themselves by their mercedes or million dollar home or full 401k.
The rampant mediocrity in religion is due to the ignoring of the Sermon on the Mount as if it were unattainable. On the contrary it is the essence of the faith.
I was struck today by the words of a hymn at Mass: “Here I am, with people in the lineup, anxious for a handout, aching for a job, here I am, when pensioners and strikers sing and march together, wanting something new. Where are you?”
Those words we sing! Our choir director’s preaching, although implicit, is much more powerful than our pastor’s.
Claire, what church do you go to and what city is it? Many Americans are still hurting. “While Wall Street is pumping, Main Street Bleeds.”
http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/31/education/31winerip.html?_r=1&hpw
St Mary’s on Broadway in Providence RI.